To Kill a Kingdom (Hundred Kingdoms, #1)

by Alexandra Christo

“Elian,” Kye says. “You’re injured. Let me carry her.” I ignore him

As I carry Lira toward him, through the twists and tunnels of my ship, I’m caught off guard by the notion that out of all the princes and pirates and killers and convicts, a small boy from a circus is the only one who can help. It seems funny, and I think how Lira might laugh, knowing that a rookie engineer will be stitching her skin back together. What biting comment she would come back with and how it would sink into me like a perfectly wonderful kind of poison. Like a bullet.

“Gods.” Kye recoils as I slash open Lira’s dress. “Is she going to live?” “Do you care?” I snap back. It isn’t his fault, but yelling at Kye feels a little like yelling at myself, and I need to be yelled at right now. Because this is on me. If Lira dies, then it’s on me. I can’t believe you came back for me. But I left her first.

“What about Lira?” Madrid asks. I shrug. “Depends on how pleasant she is when she wakes up.” “I meant,” she says, “is she really going to be okay?” I stare down at Rycroft, and it takes every scrap of strength I have to smile. “My crew is not so easily killed.”

More than anything, I’m counting the minutes until our rookie engineer emerges and tells me that everything is fine. That Lira didn’t die for me and that she can still offer the last piece of the puzzle to free the Crystal of Keto from its cage.

That maybe—just maybe—I don’t need to rip Rycroft into any more pieces.

I reach out my hand to pull her up, and the look Lira gives me is nothing short of poisonous. “Do you want me to chop it off?” she asks. I keep my hand hovering in the space between us. “Not particularly.” “Then get it out of my face.”

Her hair is more unruly than ever, and the wind from the approaching storm does nothing to help. It blows into her eyes and catches across her lips, clinging to the freckles of her pale cheeks. I clench my hands by my sides, resisting the impulse to reach over and push it from her face.

Love and madness are two stars in the same sky.

You cannot build a roof to keep out last year’s rain.

If your only instrument is a sword, then you will always strike at your problems.

“Oh, I’m not a recruit,” Lira says. “I’m just here to kill him.” She stares pointedly at the princess. “And anyone else who gets in my way.” Kye makes a poor attempt to muffle the sound of his laughter with the back of his hand.

Whether she heard me or not, I can’t be sure, but she walks away without looking back and I don’t follow. There’s part of me that wants to—a part larger than I’d like to admit—but I wouldn’t know what to say if I did.

“You may care about her,” Yukiko says, “but it won’t change anything. Love is not for princes, and it’s most certainly not for kings.

When the door unzips, I’m not at all surprised to see Elian crouching beside it. “Come with me,” he says, and so I do.

“People don’t tell secrets because someone needs to know them. They do it because they need someone to tell.”

“Are you ever going to kiss me?” Slowly, Elian says, “That’s not a favor.” His hand moves from beside mine, and I feel a sudden absence. And then it’s on my cheek, cupping my face, thumb stroking my lip. It feels like the worst thing I’ve ever done and the best thing I could ever do and how strange that the two are suddenly the same. How strange that instead of taking his heart, I’m hoping he takes mine. “Do you remember when we first met?” he asks. “You said I was more charming when I was unconscious.” Elian laughs, and he’s so close that I feel his body shake against mine. I can see every scar and freckle of his skin. Every streak of color in his eyes. I lick my lips. I can almost taste him. “Ask me again,” he says. His forehead presses against mine, breath ragged on my lips. I close my eyes and breathe him in. Licorice and ocean salt and if I move, if I breathe, then whatever fragile thing it is between us will disappear with the wind. “Just do it already,” I say. And he does.

“Tha pethánete,” she barks. “Sorry.” I rub a hand over my throat. “I don’t speak bitch.”

By falling for a monster, I have become one for her.

He is unaffected by the song. Elian clutches the Crystal of Keto as though it’s his lifeline. As far as he’s concerned, this newfound immunity is down to the tiny piece of my goddess that nooks in his palm. I smile at that, because Elian of all people should know better. He should know to have more faith in myth and fairy tale.

Any human who takes a siren’s heart will be immune to the power of their song. Only Elian didn’t need to take my heart; I gave it to him.

“Elian,” I whisper, low enough that the Sea Queen can’t hear. I keep my fingers pressed to the base of his neck, inclining him toward me. “You have to trust in it.” “In what?” he asks, hoarse and disbelieving. “In you?” “In your dream,” I say. “That killers can stop being killers.” Elian’s eyes search mine. “How can I believe anything you say?” “Because you’re immune to our song.” He frowns and it takes a moment, his gaze narrowing, before my words dawn on him. I can practically see the memory run through his mind and the new kind of uncertainty it brings. It kills me, but there’s nothing I can do but have faith that he’ll remember more than just the story and less than just my betrayal. I need him to linger on the taste of me and think about how we saved each other. How we could do that so easily again now, and take the world along with us.

Elian lets out a breath, amusement and surprise and something far too close to pride. I shoot him a look and then turn back to the Sea Queen, as resolute as this new strength allows.

“Oh, but you’re wrong.” I give her a smile to start wars. Or maybe to end them. “You see, it wasn’t the prince who freed the eye from its chamber, Mother. It was me.”

He’s strong, but it’s an empty strength, dwelling in the idea of duty and violence for violence’s sake. For the first time, I’m fighting for something. Elian’s face runs on a loop in my mind, and the moment I remember it’s his life, the life of my kingdom, the pain seeps away.

I’m about to swim toward him when the Flesh-Eater wraps a callous claw around my neck. It’s one final act of brutality, and I feel the instability of his strength. With each passing moment, his grip ricochets between insufferable and barely there. Slowly, I curve a hand around his thick wrist and squeeze. Around us, the sirens descend. They watch the barbarian soldier cling desperately to their princess. They see me wait fearlessly for death to claim him. And when Elian plunges his knife into the back of the Flesh-Eater’s skull, they do nothing but smile.

Elian wipes the flay of skin from his blade and curls his lips. For some reason, this strikes me as funny. The Sea Queen’s most loyal and unstoppable warrior, destroyed by a human prince who is nauseated at the sight of dead flesh.

I snort, and Elian turns to shoot me an incredulous look. “That was funny to you?” “Your face is always funny to me,” I tell him. He narrows his eyes, but under the water his fingers slip into mine. I squeeze his hand and face the Sea Queen,

“I have to get you to safety,” I tell Elian. “We can swim under. If I put out the fire, you can take cover behind your crew.” Elian eyes me savagely. “I’m not hiding,” he says. A resounding boom rattles through the line of icebergs as my mother smashes into them. With her fists or her magic, I’m not sure. But the force of it is enough to make the water tremble, and I know the new wall won’t last long. “Fine,” I snap. “Don’t hide; run instead. I don’t care just as long as you get out of here.” Elian laughs an offbeat, exhausted sound. “You’re not understanding me,” he says, grabbing my hand. “I’m not leaving you.” “Elian, I—” “Don’t say something heroic and self-sacrificing,” he tells me. “Because then I might start thinking you’ve actually got some humanity in you.” I smirk. “That would be boring.” He nods, pressing against me. The icebergs I’ve conjured rattle, and large blocks of ice tumble around us in monstrous hailstones. It’s as though the world is crumbling. “I don’t like you because you’re nice,” Elian says. His forehead touches mine, his lips hovering a breath away. “That says a lot about your psyche.” He kisses me then. Just once. Delicate in a way I’ve only known with him. And then the icebergs fall and the impact creates a wave high enough to swallow us whole. I throw my arms around Elian and let my magic coat us. Shielding us from the bursts of snow that threaten to crush us to the water bed.

I push Elian behind me, keeping my hand tangled in his.

The wind picks up speed, my mother’s fury swirling and tossing the air, further igniting the flames that keep my army from me. Elian’s crew. The very people who would lay down their lives for us. But I don’t need people to die for me anymore. And I don’t need them to die because of me either. The killing and the sacrifice end here, and I want each of them to see it so they can trust in the changes I’ve preached. A new world, with a new queen at its helm.

The fire blots out and the smoke clears, and in the abyss of charred snow and melted gravel, two armies stare back at us. Human and siren, side by side. Waiting for their prince and their princess to deliver the promised end.

search to make sure the others are unscathed, but the air is an expanse of white. Elian runs his hands over my shoulders and then down my arms. For a moment I’m not sure why, and then I realize that he’s checking for injuries. Making sure I’m okay until he can see it for himself.

Elian crouches beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders, enveloping me in his warmth. We sit like that for an eternity until, finally, the Sea Queen fades away.

Lira descends gracefully onto the Saad and takes a firm hold of my outstretched hand. I bring it to my lips with a provoking smile and then press a hand to her cheek. It’s soft and sharp and as full of as many contradictions as she is. “Are you ready?” she asks. I kiss her by way of reply, surprising myself that I waited a full minute. It’s an unusual show of patience on my part. Lira grins, her teeth skimming my lips, and lets her tongue run across mine. She clutches on to the collar of my shirt and I wrap my arms around her waist. It’s like holding a story rather than a person; she feels wild and infinite in my arms. She loops my hand in hers and pulls me up onto the side of the ship.

Lira catches my eye and arches her brow. “Are you staring at my chest or my necklace?” I give her a shameless smile. “Which one won’t earn me a slap in the face?” “I’m just trying to gauge whether or not you’re planning on stealing it.” She runs a slender finger over the stone. “You are a pirate, after all.” “True,” I say. “But then, so are you.” Lira looks down at her outfit. The navy pants that puff out at the thighs and the knee-high brown boots with enough gold on the buckles to buy a kingdom. She laughs, and the ruby glows against her bust. Salt and magic. She pulls me closer to her, her fingers held tight over mine, and together we dive.